Breathe
by kitten2010
Summary: A slashy one-shot of Scott and Stiles


**I've recently gone on a ScottXStiles kick. I'm thinking of taking requests for this pairing since there's not much on them. If there's something you haven't seen yet that you'd like to, run it by me and I'll see if I can make that happen for you.**

**This fic takes place before Scott is bitten. I owe this to werelite, for getting me inspired. Review please.**

Stiles ran through the hospital like a mad man. He crashed into a few nurses and doctors, but finally found were Scott lay in a bed. There was an oxygen mask pressed to his best friends face and an IV line in the crook of his arm. Scott's lips seemed pale and his eyes were half open.

Scott's mom was there at the door ready to catch Stiles as he ran into the room. "He's going to be alright, Stiles," Ms. McCall said soothingly. "I didn't mean to scare you on the phone, I was just worried."

Stiles forced himself to calm down, but the adrenaline and Adderall made it difficult. He felt like he was still vibrating. He took a deep breath and slowly moved to be by Scott's side.

Scott looked up at him, still wheezing a bit, but smiling. "Hey," he said weakly.

Stiles grabbed a chair and planted it by the bed. He wasn't going to move from Scott's side. It was a tradition. Ever since the very first time Scott's asthma had sent him to the hospital, Stiles stayed by him the entire duration of the stay. "Got a little carried away, huh?" Stiles said.

Scott nodded and coughed a few times. "I was trying to work on my running."

Stiles patted Scott on the shoulder. "Next time, don't forget your inhaler," he lectured. He normally would have made a joke, but times like this took the humor out of him. Stiles was fully aware that he did not handle losing people well and though he doubted Scott's asthma was _that_ bad, it was still severe and accidents happened.

"Yes, boss," Scott said, with a weak two fingered salute.

The sheriff stepped into the room, nodding in greeting. "How are you, Scott?" he asked.

"Super," Scott said, attempting a bit of sarcasm.

"I have to work a double tonight," Scott's mom said, the guilt obvious in her face. "Could he stay at your house? I just don't want him to be alone."

The sheriff nodded. "I'm sure Stiles would appreciate the company since I'm working too."

After a few more hours of the doctor's observing Scott's breathing, he was deemed healthy enough to go on his way.

It was starting to get dark when Stiles parked his Jeep in front of his house. Scott carried the pizza box while his best friend unlocked the front door. The boys set up the living room for an epic sleepover like the ones the used to have. A two liter bottle of soda and a large pizza to go with a stack of crappy, cheesy horror movies. Stiles went to his room and brought out a bunch of pillows and blankets to complete their little campsite in front of the TV.

Color was returning to Scott's face and Stiles could hardly tell that Scott had had an asthma attack earlier. They laughed together as an actress froze in a caricature of fear as a swarm of birds dived down on her.

The pizza was gone, the box left on the floor. They passed the bottle of soda back and forth, too lazy to get glasses. As the third movie began, Stiles could tell the Scott was tired. His asthma attacks usually took a lot out of him.

Sure enough, Stiles was the only one laughing when the one main character who had survived the zombie attacks was shot by a band of survivors. Scott was drooling a bit with his head on Stiles' shoulder.

Stiles adjusted the pillows carefully, so as not to wake Scott, and threw a blanket over both of them. He snuggled up against Scott and fell asleep remembering the many times they'd done this as kids. He drifted off to sleep and found himself falling into an all too familiar nightmare.

He was alone. Completely alone. He cried out, "Dad! Scott! Mom! Mom!" There was no reply. There was nothing but the dark, crushing weight of loneliness. He fought back, thrashing his arms, trying to keep the weight from suffocating him.

Scott was jerked awake by Stiles' violent jerking. His friend looked panicked and a thin shimmer of sweat formed on the other boy's forehead. "Wake up," Scott said. "It's only a dream…Wake up, Stiles." Scott wrapped his arms around Stiles and kept his friend from knocking things over. "Wake up!" Scott said with a bit more force.

Stiles' eyes popped open and he immediately felt a little embarrassed. "Sorry…"

"I've never seen you like that, dude. What were you dreaming about?"

"You'll laugh," Stiles muttered.

"You know I won't," Scott replied.

"I dreamt that I was alone. And it was crushing me," Stiles admitted, drumming his fingers on Scott's forearm. Stiles was relieved that Scott hadn't let him go. The warm pressure of his best friend's arm was just what he needed to forget the cold, suffocating crushing feeling of his dream.

Scott pressed his forehead to Stiles' temple. "It's alright," Scott said. He kissed Stiles on the cheek. They used to kiss each other all the time in a brotherly way, but stopped when the other kids started to tease them.

Stiles sighed and cuddled closer to Scott, feeling particularly needy. "I don't want to lose anyone else…I just get scared."

"I'll never leave you, Stiles."

Neither of them would ever be sure what happened next, but suddenly they were kissing. It was unclear who had kissed who, but most likely they had both kissed each other at the same time. This wasn't the innocent kiss of their childhood. This was more.

Stiles' hand tangled in the back of Scott's hair as their tongues danced. They settled back into their nest of pillows, holding each other close and kissing. Their legs intertwined and Stiles rocked his hips back and forth against Scott's crotch.

Scott gasped at the friction and pulled away, patting the ground, searching for the inhaler that he'd set within reaching distance. He took a few puffs of medicine and gave Stiles a sheepish grin.

They shared a short laugh at Scott's inconvenient asthma. They knew that what had just happened wasn't going to harm their friendship. There'd never even been a chance of that.

Settling into each other's arms once again, they laid down, sharing lazy, sleepy kisses. Both teenagers fell asleep, knowing that they were safe and loved.


End file.
